


An ode to Music

by wonderfulmax90



Category: Music - Fandom
Genre: Bad Poetry, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Erotic Poetry, Inspired by Poetry, Love Poems, Other, Poetic, Poetry, Pregnancy, Prose Poem, Slam Poetry, Substance Abuse, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 11:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfulmax90/pseuds/wonderfulmax90
Summary: Something I had to do for my English class. So don't hate on me for my bad poetry.





	An ode to Music

A guitar singing over the lead singer,  
Drummers keeping the beat,  
Singers wailing like a banshee in the night,  
Bassists growling like wolves on the hunt,  
Barely heard over all the noise.  
Screaming fans covering up the lead singer,  
Letting out chokes and screams as if  
They were being murdered by the words being sung.

From nights spent doing cocaine binges  
To hanging over the toilet in a drunken haze.  
From sex in the bathroom stall of some sleazy venue  
To waking up in a hotel room not knowing who is next to you.  
From the time of your life  
To waiting in the nearest Planned Parenthood  
Waiting on the results of an STD test, a pregnancy test or both.

From Elvis Presley dying on his toilet  
To Kurt Cobain blowing his head off in Seattle.  
Fans screaming and wailing at the top of their lungs,  
Waiting for an idol that will never come home.  
Their hearts no longer have a beat.  
Wolves are no longer chasing them down.  
They will no longer hum to the wordless voice.

We forget that the people we idolize have problems to.  
Lead singers with ADD, depression and anxiety,  
Bassists with an addiction to heroin and cocaine,  
Drummers having an affair with the porn star down the street.  
The lead guitarist with anorexia and bulimia.  
The rhythm guitarist hugging them all,  
Trying their hardest to glue their broken family back together. 

Music saves the fans as much as it saves the people in the band.  
An outlet to get all of their rage out.  
Pain once manifested in bloodied bruises and self harm scars,  
Spikes poking out of pale grey skin and a spot of puke hanging off of their chin  
Like the last bit of spaghetti you had forgotten to slurp up as a kid.  
All of that pain is now being manifested in song lyrics instead of  
An addiction to not feeling any of it. 

From the slaves of Africa to Elvis Presley.  
From the hymns at church to Woodstock in ‘69.  
Warped Tour for the skaters and punks  
With their spikes and leather jackets.  
Coachella for the basic white girl  
With their mocha latte from Starbucks and their flower crowns,  
Holding onto a summer that wasn’t theirs in the first place.  
Underground raves for the goths and MTV for those too poor  
To get their hands on Jay-Z and Beyonce tickets.

Music has given hope to generation after generation.  
Idols for your kid to look up to in a time of need.  
Someone, or something, that is there for them  
When the rest of the world has turned its back.  
Something that beats in the hearts of every person.  
From those who still have their wild side  
To those who would rather be bootylicious.  
Music, thank you for saving lives.


End file.
